


We Wouldn't Burn

by tollie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Demons, Exorcisms, Gen, Righteous Woman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-12
Updated: 2012-08-12
Packaged: 2017-11-12 00:04:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/484394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tollie/pseuds/tollie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for Jo Harvelle Week on Tumblr.  In an alternate universe where Jo's father is alive (and John Winchester is dead), her little sister Evie is the target of a demon's attack.  Playing on Righteous!Jo verse.  Mirrors the first scenes of the Pilot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Wouldn't Burn

The only time the Roadhouse was ever quiet was in the middle of the night.  And even then, Ellen mused, pulling the covers over her head momentarily before rolling out of bed (quietly, so as not to wake Bill), it never stayed that way for long.  Evie’s screams have roused her.  It must be time for another late-night diaper change.   _Or maybe I’ll be lucky this time, and she’ll just need a good burping._

She stumbled, still bleary-eyed, into the baby’s room, and felt her mouth go paper-dry.

A figure was standing over Evie’s crib, back curved with the bow of its head.  Ellen looked over her shoulder, mind racing – it couldn’t be Bill – unless the man in her bed wasn’t really her husband – but then who – what – was he?  Her heart began to thump in her chest.

Ellen cursed herself – the train of thought was taking much longer than the obvious action.  “Hey!” she shouted, planting her feet a bit wider and holding onto the doorway for extra support.  The figure turned around, sporting an unfamiliar face, wry smile, and shiny, almost glowing yellow eyes.  It took all of Ellen’s willpower not to gasp aloud.  The demon’s hand was cut open, and he held it over the crib, dripping blood in her baby’s eyes.  Evie had gone eerily quiet, and Ellen felt sick at the thought of what harm the demon may have done to her.

Ellen knew what this was.  She’d heard the stories of ordinary people who’d turned to hunting after a demon came to mark their children and to burn their loved ones’ outlines into the ceiling (not that there were often outlines left – the Winchesters’ house had been one of the few with enough of a frame left standing to rebuild on.)

The demon’s cruel grin didn’t scare her.  She’d taken precautions.  Before he could take another step, Ellen pointed at the ceiling, and the demon’s fiery eyes followed her gaze.  A devil’s trap, smeared thickly in pale yellow paint on the white ceiling, encircled the area above Evie’s crib.

“ _Exorcizamus te, omnis immundis spiritus_ , “ Ellen began, but the demon lifted her up from within the circle, throwing her across the room, before she could even think of the right words to say next.    _This must be one nasty son of a bitch,_  Ellen thought, her tailbone throbbing, as she pulled herself to her feet.  She’d never heard of a demon using its powers like that from inside a devil’s trap.  Though, she’d thought luckily until now, she hadn’t encountered many demons before.  “ _Omnis satanica potestas,_ ” she gasped.  “ _Omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio –“_

It was lifting her up again, off of her feet, and though she tried to recall the rest of the exorcism, her mind went blank.  Her limbs were being plastered to the ceiling, and she was going to burn there, just like John Winchester and the others – her baby’s eyes staring up at her, both of them helpless, screaming –

“ _Omnis congregatio et secta diabolica!_ ”  The voice rung out from the doorway, and it was Jo’s.  She was holding a little slip of paper In her hand, a page ripped out of one of Ellen’s books, from the shelf she’d always told Jo was off-limits.  _That’s my girl_.  Ellen tried to sigh in relief, but her whole body was stuck now, bound to the ceiling as though by ever-tightening, invisible chains.

 Jo finished the rest of the incantation in one breath.  _“Ergo, draco maledicte. Ecclesiam tuam securi tibi facias libertate servire, te rogamus, audi nos!_ ”

The host screamed, and black smoke billowed out of his mouth, streaming through the edges of the window pane.  The man crumpled.  Ellen, trying to break her fall, threw her hands in front of her face – but one of her fingers snapped as it caught on Evie’s crib on the way down.  She groaned, pushing her body off of the floor with her good hand.  Jo rushed up to her, the torn page fluttering behind her and tears forming in her wide eyes

“You all right, mama?” she said, her little face scrunching up in concern, and Ellen almost laughed at the sight of it – but instead a choked sob escaped her throat.  She covered it up with a cough.

“I’m all right, baby.”  She managed to straighten fully without use of her right hand with Jo’s help.  Peering up at her from the crib was little Evie, safe and relatively sound, though her face was still spotted with blood.  Ellen scooped her up, gingerly so as not to aggravate her finger too much, and dabbed at Evie’s face with her sleeve.

Bill was at the door, knife at the ready, eyes blazing.  Upon the sight of his wife and children, huddled together over the strange, unconscious man, he lowered his knife, but the urgency of his expression remained.

“What happened?” he asked, stepping forward to get a good look at Evie.  “Is that blood?”

“Yes,” Ellen managed.  Her husband’s eyes widen.  “But it’s not – not hers –”

_Besides, it was probably his turn to get up for the baby, anyway_ , she thought, pulling Jo in tight for another hug.

“Go back to bed, sweetie,” she whispered into her daughter’s hair, kissing her, and knowing none of them would sleep that night.  But Jo, obedient when it counted, slipped out of the room and padded down the hallway – though, Ellen noted, she was headed for her parents’ bed, not her own.

“What are we gonna do about him?”  Bill cocked his head to denote the man, stirring slightly, but still not conscious, on their daughter’s bedroom floor.

Ellen shook her head and pressed her palms up to her eyes.  She couldn’t think.  “I – uh.  Take him outside.  Wait for him to wake up and tell him he passed out on our lawn or something.”

He just looked at her for a moment, waiting for a better answer.  Ellen’s face was contorted in pain.  She wished Bill would do his own thinking on this one.  “We’ll figure it out,” was all she said.

Bill tucked Evie back into her crib, pulling the covers tightly over her, then straightened and put a warm hand on Ellen’s shoulder.  She tugged upward with the muscles at the corners of her lips, but the smile did not extend to her eyes.  “Go on,” she prompted, and Bill began to drag the man by his feet from the room.

Ellen would have to go to the hospital for her injuries.  That could wait until the morning.  Now she would stay with her child, underneath the devil’s trap, the piece of paper printed with the words to the exorcism balled in her fist.

_Not tonight_.  She whispered, kissing Evie’s forehead and smoothing the whisp of blonde hair that fell over her brow.   _Not the Harvelles._


End file.
